He expertly segued into the topic of his charities and corporate clean-up measures, talking about how he was sure that with just a little more support, Carbide Solutions could live up to its promise of becoming an ethical business.
Gwen wished that she could stand by his side. Well, almost, that is. She wanted to help him and comfort him and give him whatever strength he needed, but she also didn't want to be the target of all those cameras and microphones and questions. The recent past taught her that she and reporters didn't mix well.
Although, one thing did surprise her. Aiden kept glancing back her way, shooting a quick look over his shoulder as though to reassure himself that Gwen didn't take this opportunity to beat a hasty retreat and leave him to his own devices.
Each time she caught him doing it, she smiled and nodded. And each time he would turn back to the press as though recharged.
It was amazing how he changed when beheld by the lens of a camera. Rather than the reserved, self-conscious man he was in private, he became animated, confident in the extreme. Unwavering in his faith to the company.
It must take so much out of him, Gwen thought. About halfway through the conference, he started gripping the podium. At first, Gwen took it as a sign of his fervor and passion. But from the way he kept his knees locked, she realized it was to hold himself up.
From that point, she just wanted it to end. How could they do this to him? Demand he stand there for an hour talking about something that his father had done to sabotage him?
Was Henry watching this broadcast from some huge room filled with gaudy paintings and varnished bookcases? He probably was. There was probably a glass of expensive scotch or brandy clutched in his hand, which he swirled gently while a small, devilish smile curled only one corner of his mouth.
But then, mercifully, thankfully, the conference ended. Sweat glistened on the back of Aiden's neck, and his knuckles turned white with the effort of gripping that podium.
He'd apparently done such a great job that not a single reporter had an additional question for him. Not even the redhead in the pantsuit.
They filed out of the room, Aiden watching them as they went. A company aide came over to begin disconnecting the A/V equipment.
When Gwen checked her phone, she gasped. It was nearly midnight! Now that she saw that, she did feel a weary weight behind her eyes. Probably a combination of tiredness and the unrelenting glare of the fluorescent bulbs above her.
Her stiff legs complained when she levered herself out of the chair, and she resisted the urge to press her hands into the small of her back and stretch. And there was something else inside, too, intertwined with the exhaustion. A sort of manic energy that she knew would keep her from going to sleep for hours.
If I feel like this, how must Aiden feel? Gwen wondered.
"Aiden..." she said, coming up behind him and putting a hand on his shoulder.
A long sigh blew out his cheeks. He looked ready to fall over. All that false confidence and assuredness had drained him. "Let's go, okay?"
Gwen nodded, linking her arm with his. They got out to the car, both of them welcoming the relative privacy of the tinted windows.
"Let's get Miss Browning home," Aiden said, nodding to the driver.
"Very well," the man replied.
But that didn't feel right. It wasn't right to leave Aiden like this, tired and near the breaking point. He shouldn't be alone all night, she knew, stewing in his doubts and fears. He'd talked a big game, she gave him that. But behind it all was a floundering helplessness as he grasped for some solution to the problems put to him by Henry.
"No!" Gwen said, the vehemence in her voice startling both her and Aiden. When she continued, she tried to keep her energy a bit more under control. "What I mean is, I don't want you to be alone right now."
"I'll be fine..." he started.
"Are you kidding me? I'll go home when I'm ready. And right now, I'm not. You can't get rid of me that easily."
Aiden regarded her with a look she didn't immediately recognize, a small smile playing across his lips. "Apparently not..." He pinched the bridge of his nose for a second, squeezing his eyes shut as well. When he opened them again, he'd made up his mind. "Well, we're already in Manhattan. My place is much closer than yours. Care to join me for a nightcap?"
"A nightcap? Is this 19th century London?" Gwen said, grateful to inject a joke into this otherwise somber evening. "If you mean something nice to drink to sooth the nerves, then yes."
"Great. My place, then," Aiden said.
She just wanted to make sure that he was all right, that he was handling this well. Yes, Gwen thought, that's all. Though, she couldn't help feeling a certain tickle of anticipation deep inside her at being alone with him in that condo of his again.